#AmericanWriters
I noticed People disappeared When but a little child - Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild - But did because they died
Death leaves Us homesick, who beh… Except that it is gone Are ignorant of its Concern As if it were not born. Through all their former Places,…
493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—
966 All forgot for recollecting Just a paltry One— All forsook, for just a Stranger’… New Accompanying—
The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes
271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me f… Her blameless mystery—
772 The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—
Part One: Life LI IT tossed and tossed,— A little brig I knew,— O’ertook by blast,
990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night—
9 Through lane it lay—through brambl… Through clearing and through wood— Banditti often passed us Upon the lonely road.
200 I stole them from a Bee— Because—Thee— Sweet plea— He pardoned me!